


The Antlered Seahorse

by Witteric of the West (ImperatorAetheris)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Mind Swap, Other, Robert with a Dragon, Time Travel, Time Travelling Mind Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperatorAetheris/pseuds/Witteric%20of%20the%20West
Summary: Upon his death, Robert Baratheon finds himself thrust into a whole new life, or rather, an old one?He awoke, in a bed that was not his own, a body that was too damn skinny and pale, and with a Dragon... What in the seven hells?
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

  
“Where in the seven hells am I?” The man asked aloud as he walked into the darkness. “Oh well, at least I’m not hurting all over anymore...” He stopped dead on his tracks... The... figure, a tall man with dark hair, purple eyes and only one hand.

“Ah, so this is what my line has come to... Come, I have much to show you.” The man spoke, leading Robert away.  
______________________________

Robert woke up with a raging headache and very much confused. “Gods, what a strange dream” He told himself as he reached for the wine that a servant would always leave by the bed... But the wine wasn’t there.

“That was... unsettling... ” He told himself as he sighed. He had been with his forefather Orys. He had seen Lyanna’s objections to the marriage, and he had also been forced to watch what had happened to her... She hadn’t wanted that marriage, but she hadn’t wanted to go away with that Silver Prick either...

Most importantly, he had seen what his own folly brought. So much death, his best friend beheaded by that brat he called a son -and to think he had never been his son! Oh he truly loved sweet Tommen and smart Myrcella, but Joffrey, he was his mother’s entirely, and now it was clearer than ever... And it was all his fault. Perhaps save for the fact that Cersei was fucking the Kingslayer. Others take them both!

He was about to call for a servant and demand his wine, -to put it mildly- when he saw his hand, it was pale, extremely so... Almost Targaryen pale. He sat on the bed, just as shocked when he saw that his body was now nimble, he was even a bit skinny! He stared at his hands for a few minutes. Then he heard a servant.

“Lord Laenor, do you wish to break your fast?” A soft voice called from the other side, Robert’s mind raced, trying to find out who or what was Laenor -a Targaryen no doubt, damn them all to the seven hells- as he managed to say “Aye”

He looked around, no red dragons on black, nor any Targaryen finery... there were seahorses instead. So he was a Velaryon. His mind could only think of one Laenor Velaryon. He looked at the finery, then at the window, and started laughing.

He laughed and laughed and laughed some more. When the servant came back with a tray with bread, cheese, and some ham, Robert was laughing hysterically.

The servant carefully placed the tray and wine in a small table and left, leaving Robert to himself.

“Gods! This Pillow-Biter!” He was still laughing, there was a sweet irony to it. He saw the food and ate, he drank the goblet of wine in a swig and headed out.

He was not nearly as strong as he had been, but gods he could feel the youth in his body now, he could feel the vigor that damn Laenor Velaryon was wasting so much. At some point, he saw his own face in the water, and he laughed again. The bloody fool was handsome to boot! -then again, Valyrians tended to be-

Once he had done that, the next thing he did was to head out to the training yard. For the first time since taking that gods-damned throne, he felt alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Dragons are queer creatures. They soar through the skies without being birds, can grow to massive sizes without being bound to the earth, and can grow large enough to carry a fully grown man in armor... They also are reputed to have a special bond with their rider.

After a full day, Robert decided that he had to face the dragon. Seasmoke... If he wanted to pull this off he needed to ride the beast. And as much as the world would be better off without them a part of him was looking forward to this...

“Hah! Take this you silver prick” He thought as he arrived. Seasmoke stood there, in all of its pale silver glory. And immediately Robert knew that Seasmoke knew.

The Dragon eyed him curiously and Robert tensed. He could feel warmth in the back of his mind as it sniffed him... The beast was clearly intelligent, it also knew that he was not exactly Laenor, but it still felt the bond between them. Robert felt it too, and before he knew it, Seasmoke had placed his head in position. Robert would be able to ride him.

Once a second had passed and his mind had processed the fact that he was about to ride a freaking Dragon, Robert let out a massive and almost goofy grin. “Ha!” He exclaimed as he made his way onto it, taking position between Seasmoke’s shoulders and holding onto a ridge on his neck. Then the dragon took off.

Robert had no words to describe the rush that came to him. The wind blowing on his face as Driftmark became smaller beneath him. The sensations of flight were indeed overwhelming, and he laughed.

Rhaegar Targaryen, others take him, had been obsessed with this. But he had never managed to fly... And here was Robert, atop Seasmoke, flying and laughing hysterically... He was enjoying every second of this.

He then saw another dragon, it was larger than Seasmoke and its scales were yellow. Once it came close enough, he saw the rider atop the dragon, a woman of Valyrian blood of course, slightly younger than himself. He did not know it at the time, but it was his first time meeting Rhaenyra Targaryen.

He could not make the features on her face, but she clearly challenged him to a race around the island, and with a grin, Robert accepted, soon the two dragons flew around Driftmark. Gods, what a show must that be for those below.

Three, four and five times did they fly around the island before they finally came to the ground right outside of High Tide. Seasmoke landed first, and right after him landed Syrax. Soon enough its rider dismounted and Robert Baratheon, or rather, Laenor Velaryon, could finally see her.

Robert remembered her mostly as Maegor with Tits. Laenor’s memories were not particularly attached to her either -with all and him being a Pillow-Biter-... But damn, even Renly would have been attracted to what he was looking at.

Rhaenyra Targaryen, At all of Seven and Ten Years, she was absolutely gorgeous. Hells, Cersei -and as much as he loathed her, he had to admit that the damn Lannister whore was beautiful- would look like a plain maid in comparison! The only woman Robert could even begin to compare to the vision in front of him was Lyanna, and even he knew that it was because had had never quite gotten over her.

Still, he had a massive grin as she looked at him, clearly confused.

It dawned on him then that she was expecting Laenor the pillow-biter, not Robert.

“That was a bloody good race! We ought to do that more often” Robert told her with a smile, and the girl -because he could not find Maegor with Tits in the girl- laughed at that.

“Well, I suppose that today will be full of surprises,” She told him as they entered High Tide proper.


	3. Chapter 3

Robert was thankful that his now father, Corlys the Seasnake, had set up things so that this fortnight before the wedding, and the week after, there would be a lot of feasting. Not just because it gave him a chance to drink merrilly -which was, admittedly, not quite in Laenor’s old character- but also because it meant that there were fewer chances of him now having to face both, The Seasnake -who had been one of his heroes while growing up- and his now mother, Rhaenys...

Rhaenys, the Queen that never was. Robert was surprised when he met her, she was fierce and stubborn as a Baratheon -now that he remembered, his grandmother was a Baratheon- her hair was Baratheon black, and she looked just as good in fine silks as she did in armor...

Gods, if she were not his mother, if he had been sent years earlier and had been anywhere else, he would have sought her hand in marriage.

Thankfully, his own aversion to such close incest showed up to kill his lust.

Then there were the other persons in attendance.

Prince Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, who was not present but whose shadow was cast upon all of the present due to the war in the Stepstones... An absolute prick. He was a good fighter -Robert was not sure he would be able to take him at anything less than his absolute prime- And Ser Criston Cole, an infamous bastard who, from what little Robert managed to remember about lessons that were half-forgotten, had basically caused the Dance of the Dragons...

Robert was still getting used to be a skinny valyrian boy. Thankfully, he was skilled enough to not need absurd amounts of effort. Perhaps by the time the wedding came, he would be more than capable of taking on either of them.

Just the fact that both of them seemed to have lusted after his soon to be wife even when she was but a child made him want to take his warhammer and smash it into their faces...

Then there was Joffrey Lonmouth... He was handsome, and too blonde for Robert’s liking. The knight seemed very distraught by the fact that he was barely giving him any time at all.

Damn Pillow-Biters. He could see the way the knight looked at him, and it reminded him of Renly and Loras...

He left such thoughts as he turned to Princess Rhaenyra, she was looking at him, an eyebrow raised and her arms crossed.

“You’ve changed greatly.” She commented. “I expected you to be all over Ser Joffrey now...” Robert managed to not shudder at that, and shrugged in a shockingly nonchalant way.

“I may have had a... change of heart.” He replied, this only seemed to confuse the woman even more. Robert for his own part was thinking -for once- on what was ahead of him.

Gods, he was going to make this work. He failed to do so with Cersei -but then again, was it his fault that the damn whore was fucking her brother?- He gave a smile to the Princess, and soon enough snuck away to drink some more...  
____________________________________

“Well, I think it’s good that he finally seems to pay some sort of attention to her,” Corlys remarked at his wife’s confusion over Laenor’s recent behavior...

It was strange, the boy had, over the last few days, ceased talking to Ser Joffrey at all. -He seemed to be avoiding him in fact- At first, both he and Rhaenys thought that he would simply find a new favorite...

Then Rhaenys found him fondling one of the servant girls, and clearly enjoying the act.

“I do not disagree dear, but I still worry about him. He will barely talk to us either, and some in High Tide even have claimed that he is a faceless man! If you won’t do anything. I will.”

Corlys Velaryon sighed as his wife abandoned the small room, already too aware that there was little he could have done to stop her.


	4. Chapter 4

Robert had definitely drunk a lot of wine already, and still, he was not truly drunk. Oh, his words were slightly slurred, but he retained most of his balance on his feet, and was more than capable of making himself understood.

It was then that a series of memories left from Laenor kicked in. And Robert was left seeing red as he made his way towards one man.

The man in question, a Braavosi, never saw it coming until he heard Laenor Velaryon, whose fiery eyes were suddenly locked on him as he approached.

“Moredo Zalyne!” Robert called out. A low chuckle could be heard from one of the many tables -it was Lord Boremund, the old man chuckling as he figured that perhaps his grand-nephew had inherited something from his sister after all-

Moredo turned to see him, managing to stand proud as the heir to the Tides walked over.

“By the gods I will not let my sister marry a wastrel” Robert uttered darkly. He had never had a sister before, but gods, a man that would live under their roof for ten years after having squandered the riches of his father, and who would gladly take the dowry money and gamble it away was something he found despicable.

Not that he managed to catch just how ironic that was, all things considered...

“What did you call me?” Moredo left a “barbarian” unsaid. He inched closer, of course none of them were armed at the moment, else there would have already been bloodshed...

“If you’re so offended, then be a man for once and meet me at dawn with steel in the yard.” Robert’s voice sounded like a low grumble, it was like a distant thunder in the way it shook everyone in the feast.

With a deep frown, Zalyne took off one of the brooches of his tunic, and threw it to the floor between the two.

“Then I challenge you to a duel, after dawn I will show you just how foolish you are.” Tempers, of course, ran hot, but thankfully, none dared to do much more at the moment. Robert’s hunger for violence and Moredo’s wounded honor would find satisfaction the following morning.

With that dealt with, Robert walked out of the feast hall. It was hard for him to do so, but alas, even he had to admit that fighting a duel with a raging headache from too much wine -and this body was not used to the sheer amounts of wine that Robert would have normally drunk on a feast- was foolish at best.  
______________________________

Silence reigned in the great hall of High Tide. Then a booming laugh could be heard.

“I think, dear niece,” The man, tall, broad and with grey hair, said, “that he did inherit something from your mother after all!” Lord Boremund Baratheon spoke amidst laughter. His son, Borros, joined in, but no other man or woman in the hall laughed.

Rhaenys for her own part, slowly collected herself and looked at her husband. Corlys was clearly just as confused and shocked as she was. He gave her a small nod -although she would have done so without it- and she made her way out of the Great Hall.

That... What had possessed Laenor to act like that? Gentle Laenor who preferred flying to fighting and the tales of Corlys’ many travels to those of Aegon the Conqueror?

Already she had noted his change in behavior, but she had kept the hope that it had not been that drastic. Sure, it had been beyond strange to find him with that serving girl, and it had been equally confusing to find him so often in the yards now...

Oh, sure, Laenor and Moredo had never quite gotten along. She knew that Laenor opposed that match -mostly because of the fact that Moredo had made no attempt at even regaining a portion of the fortune he lost- but for him to do this?

She went into his rooms, only to find that he was not there yet. And taking a deep breath she left the rooms. They most definitely needed to have a talk.


	5. Chapter 5

At dawn, Robert was in the yard. He wore a relatively light armor, with a breastplate and a mail hauberk above a gambeson. In his hands he had a mace -He would have gladly used a war hammer, but settled for a mace, as he could not use his maul-like weapon yet with this body, even though Laenor had managed to inherit some of that Baratheon strength.  
  
Opposite him was Moredo Zalyne. The Braavosi was standing proud, wearing mail, a helm and a Bravo's sword. The prick was simply too arrogant to even try to do something else. Both men came closer to the center of the yards as rather few people were watching.  
  
Criston Cole was there, as was Rhaenyra, Lord Corlys, and Princess Rhaenys, Some other assorted nobles were present as well as the two, The Master of Arms was within the yard, waiting for both men to be ready as the Maester and a Septon were brought. Robert for his own part waited, swinging his mace threateningly as the Master of Arms, one Ser Myles, gave the go.  
  
Robert allowed Moredo to try first, he slashed at Robert like a fool with that oversized needle of his. By the time the Braavosi decided that he would use his sword the way it was intended to -that is, thrusting- Robert closed the distance and took his mace to the man's chest. He was, after all, not feeling particularly merciful at the moment.  
  
Moredo Zalyne stumbled back two steps before collapsing, coughing blood. Robert had chosen a fully blunt mace, but of course, he was pretty sure that his ribs had broken, probably even puncture a lung. Not that he actually knew how to identify that. The Maester was brought in as Robert left the yard and as quickly as he could, discarded the breastplate and mail hauberk. His mind busy with other matters.  
  
He had absolutely no idea of what would he tell to his now parents. He didn't have it in him to tell them that Laenor Velaryon was no more. And he did not seem to have hit his head recently to even put up that excuse.  
  
Trying to sort out his thoughts, he found someone walking in on him.  
  
Of course, it was Joffrey Lonmouth.  
  
Oh, Robert had nothing against him to be fair. From Laenor's old memories he seemed a good enough man... But Robert didn't have it in him to continue what was clearly Laenor's relation with him. Ser Joffrey approached him, eyes filled with grief, and Robert took a step back, hoping that it had not turned him mad.  
  
"Have I done something to anger you Laenor? Why do you hate me so?" He asked... Well, at least he was direct. Robert's mind raced, but he had absolutely no idea of what to tell him.  
  
"I... " He tried to think, to speak as Laenor would have done. "I cannot do this anymore Joffrey." He spoke plainly, his voice too boyish and soft for his liking. "It is nothing you have done, I just can't keep living like this! We must go separate ways." He saw the other man frowning, and he took another step back. Grief made men commit the unspeakable, just as pride and greed did. That he had learned first hand.  
  
In the end, however, a clearly upset Joffrey Lonmouth left without saying anything else. Robert was well aware that this was not over. And he figured that sleeping with an eye open would be an important thing from now on. After all, he would no longer have the Kingsguard behind him.  
  
Frowning and bothered, Robert left a few minutes later. Maybe some flying would do him good, after all, not only it was the one thing he had now that Rhaegar had never had, it was also soothing in a strange way. Not only the wind on the face and seeing the world beneath him.  
  
He started to work on putting the saddle on Seasmoke, trying to think clearly. It was not quite working out.


	6. Chapter 6

Robert was impatient as Seasmoke was saddled. Alas, he heard footsteps and turned to see none other than his now Mother.  
  
Rhaenys Targaryen stood before him, arms crossed and a look in her eyes that was somewhere between confused, upset and worried. Robert for his own part thought. He thought on what had happened and on what he would tell her. And he failed to come up with anything.  
  
All he knew was that he did not have the heart to tell her that Laenor Velaryon was gone.  
  
It took a very awkward minute for either of them to say a word, it seemed as if neither knew what to say. Robert had to admit that he could not complain. Finally, he broke the silence in the only way he managed to.  
  
"Dragon dreams," He let out, when his mother raised an eyebrow, he explained, "I... I saw my own death, killed in a damn alley by a scorned lover, I saw a war start because I was unable to... perform... and because Alicent fucking Hightower is too damn greedy to respect King Viserys' wishes. I... I saw so many things and when I woke up I just felt this need to do... something about it!" His voice rose slowly but surely, until that final phrase was almost a yell.  
  
Rhaenys for her own part, kept watching, trying to make sure that he was saying the truth, or to find out any lie...  
  
Of course, Laenor, as gentle as he was, had always been rather... stubborn... What was strange was the sudden change. And she still was worried. Then he did something that absolutely surprised her.  
  
He took a few steps forward and hugged her tightly.  
  
Robert was... confused, maybe even slightly conflicted. Oh sure he had noticed various handsome men around -no doubt an echo of the now departed Laenor- but he had felt neither physical attraction nor emotional attachment to them. Hells, it had been really hard for him to pass off as just wanting to break things off with Lonmouth! But here was this woman, to whom he could only look at and see the face of his own mother, of the lady Cassana that died before her time in that damn storm...  
  
Then he finally realized why did he do it, he had already lost his mother once. Even if she was not Cassana Estermont, he would not do so again.  
  
He did take notice of her arms going around him, and while neither of them cried, neither could bring themselves to break free from this for a minute or two. Rhaenys, for her own part, was still looking at him, although her face had visibly softened. She actually wondered what else had he seen now, to push him to such changes. Not only had he been stubborn -Something he definitely had gotten from her and her own mother... Although Corlys could almost match her in that regard- He had been more often than not distant.  
  
It was then that she saw him head off to his dragon. Seasmoke was properly saddled now and before she said any further words, he was up in the sky.  
  
Robert, now gods know how many feet up in the air, with the wind blowing by him and the strange warmth in the back of his head that he felt when on Seasmoke, could finally calm down. The dragon seemed to feel that he was upset, and flew evenly, just fast enough to make it thrilling, but not as if he were racing.  
  
He flew on Seasmoke all over the Blackwater Bay, he passed dreary Dragonstone -and decided to spend there only as much time as needed, he would rather forget about Stannis- He only returned to Driftmark way past noon. To find the castle bustling with activity and everyone settling down for the week.  
  
Once he had finally calmed down, Robert had to admit that he was looking forward to what was coming... Both his marriage, and, to an extent to the obvious need to bash some skulls in the future.


	7. Chapter 7

Robert had to admit that he hated being in a religious ceremony. Still, things were good so far.

Oh, sure, his bride was a Targaryen, but on the other hand, she was -as them damn Valyrians tend to be- absolutely gorgeous. He vaguely recalled now that she had also been called the Realm's Delight at some point. She also was much less insufferable than Cersei.

Cloaks were exchanged, words were said and oaths were made, and thus Robert was led with his now wife, towards the Great Hall of High Tide. He knew that there would be seven days of feasting and jousting... Well, he had never been the greatest at the tilts, and normally there were no melees at weddings... Which was a shame, he really felt the need to bash some skulls.

It was more than the boredom of standing with a septon, it was more than the bullshit of court and such things.

Robert Baratheon, or rather, Laenor Velaryon's body with the former's mind, would look every now and then at two men, and see red.

Ser Criston Cole -who may or may not have been in bed with his now wife before- And Ser Harwin Strong, her current Sworn Shield...

A Great table was set in the middle of the hall, a massive pie was set in it, and he looked at Rhaenyra. She seemed almost... disinterested...

She took the knife, and he took her hand. Both of them cut open the large pastry, and many birds, mockingbirds and sparrows and pigeons, flew out. Many of the attendants laughed in delight, but Robert could only frown at her disinterest... Soon enough they were seated in the place of honor, and the feast started in its earnest. He could see the glances, especially from Corlys and from that accursed Cole...

Robert drank and ate, managing to not eat absurd amounts as a wave of seething anger kept growing in him... He knew that he could not pull off the same he had done with Zalyne, in no small part because they were far more notorious... Still, having spent the last week with the mace, and with his own memories of training with mace and hammer... He knew that he was formidable, even if he was no Demon of the Trident.

The feast kept going, lords and ladies talking and whispering and flirting... He felt the hours pass, and himself getting angrier... Thus, when someone called for a Bedding, he felt relieved. A Cheer broke through the hall as he and Rhaenyra were made to stand up. Of course, it seemed that his glare had not gone unnoticed as he did manage to see that many men were more cautious in undressing the future queen.

He just laughed as the various ladies fawned over him as his fancy tunic and clothes were unceremoniously ripped away.

It was with that, amidst laughter and drunken revelry that both he and Rhaenyra were eventually led into their newlywed bed, the doors closed behind him, and he finally took a good look at his now naked wife.

Suffice to say that they would barely sleep that night.


	8. Chapter 8

Robert Baratheon was a simple man.  
  
He was a man that wanted more out of life than merely existing, but not to the extent of wanting power or riches -at least not in the way most men lusted after them- Whatever power he pursued, whatever riches he craved, had a fairly simple goal.  
  
At the end of the day, what Robert Baratheon truly craved was affection, that which had been cut short by the death of his parents on that gods-damned storm, by his falling out with his brothers, by the deaths of Elbert and Denys in the rebellion and the long separation from Ned.  
  
Lacking such affection, the next best thing was a woman's willing embrace. Closely followed by food and alcohol, the three of them only served, however, to let him ignore for a few hours his sorrow. He was all too aware that he was a man whose life had been wasted. He knew better than anyone what he had turned into, but for all his courage in battle, the battle against such demons was one he had long given up on.  
  
It was all still too vivid in his mind. Oh, he did not regret the mistreatment of that Lannister whore -For he was mentally incapable of thinking of Cersei Lannister as anything other than that- And deep down, a part of him knew that he ought to regret it even taking her actions into account. But he just couldn't care.  
  
Such was the mind of Robert Baratheon when the first rays of sunlight made their way lazily into the bedchambers where he had slept the previous night. The light got to his face, forcing him to open his eyes at last. And he could not help but smile slightly at the sight before him.  
  
They had called Cersei Lannister "The Light of the West" and aye, she had been a beauty, an icy cold bitch too, but a beauty nonetheless. And he had never seen said woman like this.  
  
What he woke up to, was Rhaenyra Targaryen, "The Realm's Delight" with an amusingly content smile on her face, the covers hiding the fine details while letting her extremely appealing shape be seen by him, and seemingly still sleeping. An image of calm that he only remembered seeing once or twice, with that woman on whom he had drowned his sorrow at the loss of his parents.  
  
Before his mind could once more lock itself into the circle of self-pity that he had indulged every day of his reign as King, he saw her stir. Large lavender eyes looked up at him, and her content smile turned into an amused smirk that, for a moment, made Robert see his She-Wolf instead of the fiery dragoness that laid beside him.  
  
"Hmmmm... I don't suppose that we are up early" She commented with a raised eyebrow. Robert looked at her, then at the window with the drawn curtains, and let out a laugh.  
  
"Aye, I believe that we must have slept in quite late." Was all he could say. His brain still adjusting to everything that had happened since that boar came for him.  
  
Besides, the thought that he had most likely just fucked Rhaegar Targaryen out of existence, was another reason to be happy.  
  
The calm did not last for that long. As a servant knocked on the door and called out for them both. As husband and wife sat on the bed, Robert could only think of the fights ahead, his half-remembered lessons did tell him that there was a war going on in the Stepstones -And gods damn Daemon Targaryen, Robert did not give a damn about him, but there was no way he was missing that glorious skull-bashing- besides the surely still upcoming Dance...  
  
Perhaps, Robert thought to himself as they hastily got dressed with clothes that a servant must have left in the chambers while they slept, perhaps he could come to actually enjoy living once more.  
___________________________________  
  
The previous night was a complete surprise for Rhaenyra. Oh, she had been utterly opposed to this match. After all, why would she want a man that would not desire her? And yet, the previous night had completely -and quite pleasantly, she thought- proven her wrong. There was still much work to do with Laenor, and she could not help but wonder what had happened to him. After all, when she first saw him, he had been entirely different.  
  
Throughout the week he had been rather boisterous, favoring in character his Baratheon ancestry, bold, stubborn and there was even some pride in there. Yet, she had been watching him -after all, it would do her no good to let herself be caught in shock by such changes- and more often than not, his jovial demeanor seemed to be hiding a dark cloud hanging over him.  
  
Figuring that, perhaps marrying him would not be that bad after all, and as they hastily dressed up, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone, made up her mind.  
  
She would figure out her husband, and whatever was up with him.  
  
With such a purpose made in her mind, she went with him so they could break their fasts.


	9. Chapter 9

The week after the wedding was a blur in Robert's mind, feasting and jousting and the occasional duel fought in the grounds of High Tide. Still, it was fairly unremarkable for him. Oh the feasts were splendid, of course. But for Robert, such feasting had become so common at the end, that he could hardly call it particularly remarkable.

No, what really was remarkable in his eyes, was how he avoided the two men within the great hall that he had decided to kill with his own hands.

Ser Criston Cole, the pompous shit himself was usually by the side of Alicent Hightower, and he could not help but wonder if he was fucking her on the side. He acted properly, with a charm to him that even Robert had to recognize. Still, knowing that he still lusted after his now-wife, Robert could only wish to have his old body back, not the bloated sorry piece of fat, but the body he had when he fought against that rapist Rhaegar.

The other man was Ser Harwin Strong, slightly dull, muscled like a maiden's fantasy -or himself back in the day- and handsome in a rough manner.

Robert had taken a look at them, and after much thought -or actually just a glance and a couple of seconds- he decided not to do anything drastic just yet. Instead, he needed to be at the peak of his physical prowess.

In any case, throughout the week he had settled on a routine. Waking at the crack of down -much to his chagrin, as he had to admit that his wife definitely kept him sleepless- he would go to the training yard. Working with hammer and mace and maul. Trying to build as much muscle as he could. He would fly as often as he could. Although sadly the feasts and celebrations did not leave him much time for it.

It was on dragonback that he could bond more properly with people, and where he could feel that spark being lit within him. It was while atop Seasmoke that he managed to truly approach Rhaenyra as something other than a -very enjoyable- wife. And it was only there that he could teach himself to trust his sister Laena.

Even he was rather shocked at how quickly he had taken to the Velaryons, but then again, there was always something in them that reminded him of that family that to him was almost a dream, that which he had lost to the winds of Shipbreaker Bay. Lord Corlys, for all of his pride and ambition, was a family man through and through. And as for Rhaenys, the Queen that never was... Something about her reminded Robert so much of his own mother, even if the two were almost completely opposite in temperament.

Perhaps it was because, like his family by choice, that which was dismembered so cruelly by the actions of rapists and madmen, affection and warmth was something that they had for one another.

Some things did happen though. Mid-way through the celebrations, the one man that Robert dreaded seeing -other than the Rogue Prince that is- appeared. Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, handsome and clearly in grief, walked into the grounds in full armor. Then he called out for a man.

The man in question was Ser Qarl Correy, another knight of the Velaryon Household and one that Robert was sure that he ought to remember for some reason. Still, he was very unfamiliar with the name at the moment.

Ser Qarl walked into the grounds, equally armored and with sword in hand. And it did not take long for both men to start dueling.

This was not like Robert's own duel with Zalyne, while he was sure that he was a superior fighter to either of them, Robert could see that both men were skilled. It was a rather drawn out duel, as Lonmouth fought with a fury that Robert could only describe as the fury of a woman scorned. Correy seemed to be fighting more in desperation.

After several minutes of the ringing of swords, Ser Correy yielded at last, finding himself incapable of holding the onslaught that Lonmouth was giving.

Robert frowned lightly. He could imagine well enough why was this happening. And it was something he was not glad about.

He could only hope that Lonmouth found his demise soon. Not that he had much against him, but better to see him die, than to let him do something reckless against himself.


	10. Chapter 10

**_High Tide, Early 115 AC_**  
  
The more things change, the more they stay the same.  
  
Oh, sure, Robert didn't remember the specific details behind Daemon Targaryen's exile and return other than Rhea Royce had died and he failed to take over Runestone. He had to admit that he had once admired the Rogue Prince. A man willing and capable of carving out a kingdom for himself... He, of course, had forgotten about that little issue of what had happened after both, Laenor and Laena had died.  
  
All it really took him to stop admiring the smug cunt, was the welcoming feast that Lord Corlys threw for him.  
  
It was now early in the morning, Robert swung a [heavy single-handed hammer](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/bd38dd60-280e-4e58-b939-d2b1ec755482/d4l2for-34054eb5-6942-4bca-8f19-94ca9f10e958.jpg/v1/fill/w_865,h_570,q_75,strp/heavy_war_hammer_by_licataknives_d4l2for-fullview.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD01NzAiLCJwYXRoIjoiXC9mXC9iZDM4ZGQ2MC0yODBlLTRlNTgtYjkzOS1kMmIxZWM3NTU0ODJcL2Q0bDJmb3ItMzQwNTRlYjUtNjk0Mi00YmNhLThmMTktOTRjYTlmMTBlOTU4LmpwZyIsIndpZHRoIjoiPD04NjUifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.e52jG8uGiO5bqMAY_eJdXjC1k6ZC89enLiqDK-wBIII) with fury. It was an exercise that he had started so he would build up muscle once more. And he was getting stronger. Oh, he would never be as strong as he was when he smashed his hammer and caved in Rhaegar's breastplate into his chest -Laenor was just too slender of build for that- but he would be damned before he had to limit himself to use a sword and nothing else for lack of strength and stamina. Besides, this body had plenty of potential. And with all things considered, Robert would also be damned before he let himself go fat once more when he had a war to look forward to.  
  
He was fueled by a hatred that he had not felt since that very day in the Trident. And that was because of his wife.  
  
Oh, he was not sure if he could _love_ Rhaenyra, especially in the same way he had loved Lyanna. Still, and from what he could remember, of those few times he actually managed to talk to her and of those visions that his ancestor showed him, there was that same stubbornness in the She-Dragon. So similar and yet so different at the same time...  
  
He was fairly sure that Rhaenyra did not _love_ him either. The two of them got along decently enough most of the time. Not to mention their nights... But as far as things went, life finally seemed to have settled. Everyone and their mothers knew that war was on the horizon and that it would break out as soon as King Viserys died. Thus, Robert had one massive fest of skull-bashing to look forward to, Rhaenyra, for all her pride and arrogance, at least managed to be pleasant enough unlike a certain whore he could think of...  
  
And then, right in that damned feast, Daemon seemed intent in charming Laena, but the looks shared between him and Rhaenyra infuriated the heir to High Tide in such a way, that by the feast's end, Robert could only see Rhaegar's face on the man, and he was even amazed at how he had managed to not try to end the smug cunt then and there. Rolled in a single man, Robert could see the worst of Rhaegar Targaryen and Jaime Lannister. And it infuriated him.  
  
Making matters worse, he knew that he was not yet ready to fight the damn cunt. And so he kept training, furiously swinging the heavy hammer at the dummies.  
  
And there was that remark by Daemon... It was not made loudly and in public, but quietly and to Rhaenyra, yet Robert could hear it all the same.  
  
_"As if he was truly interested, I bet he only cares for swords of both kinds."_  
  
It was that remark, that sealed it for Robert. He would kill the silver fucker with his own hands.  
  
Of course, that night he and Rhaenyra had avoided one another, although for him it was a relief that the fucker seemed more focused in Laena...  
  
Not that he'd allow that marriage to come into being.  
  
He kept swinging the hammer, thrashing the wood and straw knights, as he tried to think of a way to do it. At least of a way that would not see him die failing to accomplish a thing.  
  
He still had no ideas.


End file.
